Golden

Chapter 1

I can never appreciate a sunny day. All the worst things happen on the best days. When I was five, I got the chicken pox on a warm august day. When I was 11, my Grandpa died at 4 in the morning on a cloudless day. So I could never trust nice weather.

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It was raining when I woke up the morning I met him. Lying under my lightweight blue sheets I watched raindrops patter against the window. Individual droplets ran down the pane, merging together. I loved the rain. It was mesmerizing and beautiful, washing away the dirt and grime of the buildings and streets. After all the filth was washed away it all seemed new and perfect, the remainders of water glistening in the sunlight.

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I walked along the beach without an umbrella, feeling the rain soaking my hair and plastering my clothes to my body. The ocean looked grey in the shadow of the clouds, raindrops falling on its surface and becoming part of it. With the overflow of water, waves crashed against the rocks and shore with a determined ferocity.

I sat down on the boardwalk, letting the rain cover me as I watched the rolling sea. Water streamed down my face, drops sticking on my eyelashes so that when I looked through them I saw a kaleidoscope of colors.

So caught up in my random thoughts and musings, I failed to notice when someone sat down next to me. I did however realize when the rain soaking my red hair suddenly stopped, and I looked up to see a stretch of black material over my head. I peeked through my curtain of drenched hair to see the person holding the umbrella.

"I thought you might be getting cold..." said the boy next to me. He had dark chestnut hair that fell just above his shoulders. His eyes were amazing, a deep rich green. They were bottomless; I felt as if I could stare into them for hours.

When I remembered that I hadn't responded to him in a few minutes, I cleared my throat.

"Uh, thanks, but I love the rain. I like to soak as much of it as possible into my skin." Oh god. Why did I say such a stupid, corny thing? I should have just smiled, thanked him and flirted a little like a normal girl. He probably thought I was some kind of honest freak. But he smiled as if he thought what I said was funny.

Well then, I guess I'll take this away." He folded the umbrella and placed it behind us. Droplets of rain landed on his previously dry jeans, turning them a darker hue than before. The rain was heavy, and soon he was as soaked as I was. His white t-shirt stuck to his torso, clinging to the muscles on his stomach. I tried not to stare, but it was kind of hard. After a couple of seconds, and some serious inner war on my part, I finally looked back up at his face.

He was watching me with an amused smile, probably wondering why I was staring at his abs like they were pizza or something.

"Hey, you want to get a hotdog with me? There's a stand just a little ways up the beach." Guess I wasn't the only one thinking about food.

"Sure." I responded, trying to sound cool and casual, but probably failing miserably.

"I'm Oliver." He said.

Oh, of course. I could do this. "I'm Elena."

"Wow, Elena. That's a really pretty name!" He said.

Oh no. I could feel a blush on my cheeks. Great. "Um, thanks. So, should we go?" He nodded and I got up from where I was sitting. I watched him get up, and couldn't help but laugh. He had a big splotch of water on his butt from when he sat down.

We walked down the beach, to the stand he mentioned. It was really cute and small, with a large overhang that he at least was grateful to get under. There was only one person working along with the cook, and he looked absolutely miserable.